


the storm isn't out there at all it's inside me

by lafbaeyette



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, excessive water/storm metaphors, straight up projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 00:38:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8822779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/lafbaeyette
Summary: It never really settles, never becomes something normal, losing someone. It comes in waves, granted over the years the waves have gotten fewer and far between but they come. They’re unexpected, they’re strong as hell, and Alexander never really figured out how to deal with them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'd, un-edited, un-filtered
> 
> this is just straight up me projecting my feelings onto alex

It never really settles, never becomes something normal, losing someone. It comes in waves, granted over the years the waves have gotten fewer and far between but they come. They’re unexpected, they’re strong as hell, and Alexander never really figured out how to deal with them. Usually he’d just start working harder, put extra effort into everything he was doing, ignore the tears stinging his eyes, blame in on the light of his computer and move on. He coped by ignoring it, but sometimes it couldn’t be ignored. Not as easily, so he’d let himself cry and try to move past it. He didn’t talk about it, he continued like nothing was wrong and buried the sadness deep beneath his motivation to get shit done. And no one was ever the wiser. He would work until he passed out, cycling between two hours of sleeping and twenty-two hours of writing, filing papers, anything that would keep his mind busy.

But it came in waves, usually small waves crashing against the shore, just brushing over the tops of his feet or licking up his calves. Manageable.

Sometimes there were tidal waves, crashing over him, all around him, engulfing him and tearing him from everything he knew. Cheeks soaked from tears, chest heaving and breath coming in small bursts between loud sobs. Sobs that shook him like the winds of a hurricane, carrying him off into an unknown emotional field where he couldn’t think, couldn’t see anything but her frail hand in his, her cheeks pale and empty, face hollow, the life draining out of her. He watched her wilt away to nothing, as if the strength was leaving her body and flowing into his.

He tore his hand away from her, to break the connection, but it was too late.

He was better, and she was gone. She was gone. She was gone.

A chorus of voices shouting in his head, “she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead”, as if the repetition would normalize it. But it never really settles, it’s never normalized. He was better and she was gone and he was alone.

Alone, in the darkness, water crashing around him. Shivering. Wracked with sobs, the loneliness swallowing him whole.

“Alexander?”

John was home late. John was typically home late, and Alex was typically still at the kitchen table on his laptop but tonight John was home late and Alex wasn’t there. He called out the name again and was met with silence…

Until he heard the sharp intake the breath, the broken cry muffled between walls. John’s heart lurched and he dropped his things, rushed to the bedroom where Alex was sitting on the floor hugging his knees to his chest, face streaked with tears, eyes shut tight, and body quivering with every silent cry.

The waves kept hitting him, and hitting him, and hitting him. Fresh reminders hitting old wounds, of how alone he was, of how it should have been him. Of how little he deserved to go on, and how much she deserved life. Of how much he missed her touch, her voice, her face, her comfort.

“Alexander.”

John knelt next to him, repeating his name in a sweet cadence until he stopped shaking.

The arms surround him were wrong, they weren’t hers, but they were familiar. The embrace was warm, but hard. It didn’t smell like warm ocean air, or salt, or berries. It was rich and woodsy.

It wasn’t his mother, but John. John who could never replace what was missing, but he stretched over the old wound and sometimes Alex forgot it was there. The only person that had ever shown him as much love, as much respect, and as much warmth as his mother had. The relationships differed, but the reminder of having John made it feel easier. He calmed the storm, he helped Alex sail across the waves. Protected him from the worst of the storm, or at least held him through it.

Alex relaxed into John, head aching from the tears and throat raw from shouting that he couldn’t remember. He let John stroke his hair, wipe his cheeks, kiss his forehead. Comfort him, love him, take care of him.

It never really settles, it comes in waves and it crashes over him at the most inconvenient times. But he’s better. She’s gone, but he’s not alone. Not anymore. It’s not normal, but it’s new, and he’s getting better.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @hypeulesnochilligan


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